Of Gunshots and Rooftops
by StilinskiDreams
Summary: This is the first fanfic I ever wrote, based entirely on a very vivid dream that I had. I loved writing it and I hope you like reading it! Stiles gets kidnapped and Scott, Lydia, Derek, and the Sheriff try to save him. Tons of hurt/comfort, angst, and family/friend feels!
1. Chapter 1

Stiles' head hurt. He didn't know why his head hurt or why it seemed so difficult to open his eyes and find out… but he did know that his head hurt worse than it had that morning when Derek had unceremoniously shoved him into a locker… wait, was it that morning? Everything was fuzzy. He could feel warm, comfortable drowsiness beginning to take over his mind but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had to figure out what it was, and to do that he would probably have to open his eyes. He groaned as his eyes slowly cracked open and was startled by the glaring yellow light that immediately assaulted them. He could've sworn it was nighttime. He'd been going somewhere… where had he been going?

He'd been on his way to someone's house… Scott's? Yeah, he'd definitely been going to Scott's house. He was admittedly a bit slow at the moment, but his foggy brain was reasonably sure that he was not currently in Scott's house. He looked around at what seemed to be some kind of industrial roof. All he could see was gray metal seemingly stretching for miles and some empty fields in the distance. He would've been nervous about the height if it weren't for the fact that the roof was enormous and he seemed to be somewhere in the middle of it. He looked down and noticed that he was tied to a rickety wooden chair. "Yeah… tying someone to a chair does usually imply ill intent…" he mumbled to himself, panic starting to bubble up in his chest. He vaguely wondered if he might be dreaming, but then immediately dropped the idea because he was pretty certain a person's head couldn't hurt this badly in a dream. His desire to understand his predicament was soon overwhelmed by the nearly unbearable urge to go back to sleep. The cozy darkness of exhaustion crept its way up into Stiles' mind and he welcomed it gladly.


	2. Chapter 2

Scott couldn't remember the last time he had been this scared. That was saying something, too, because his life had basically become a freaking horror movie in the past few years. All he could think was "Not Stiles. Not Stiles. Please. Not Stiles…" as he sat restlessly in a chair in the Sheriff's office. It was different with the others. They had claws and fangs. Well, not Lydia, but she did have the special superpower of screaming until people's ears bleed and that could come in handy in any kind of hostage situation. Scott immediately pushed back on that thought; they didn't know for sure that Stiles had been kidnapped. There could be hundreds of explanations for his sudden disappearance. Scott nervously glanced up at Lydia, and look of absolute terror in her eyes didn't do anything to calm his nerves.

"Ok, ok… tell me again. Exactly what happened? You have to tell me everything." The Sheriff's wavering voice betrayed the look of stern professionalism on his face.

"He was going to stay over at my house. I was waiting for while because he's usually late so I didn't think anything of it…" Scott forced himself to take a deep breath before he continued, "but I guess I must have fallen asleep. The next thing I knew it was morning and Lydia was texting me about the horrible feelings she was having-"

"Oh god… oh my god... Lydia, does that mean-"

"He's not dead, Sheriff. I would know if he were dead. He's alive." Scott was a bit surprised and immensely relieved by the resolve in her voice but he didn't miss the steady stream of tears running down her face.

"It'll be ok. I know it will. Stiles is strong! We all know that. We'll find him." Scott was sure about this. He had to be. He struggled to keep his composure as he quietly excused himself to call Derek.


	3. Chapter 3

He woke up to freezing cold water hitting him in the face. Why couldn't he ever just wake up nicely to the sweet sound of songbirds? He gasped and coughed. "What the he-"

"Awake now, are we? Good." Stiles looked the man up and down. He didn't look overly intimidating apart from the fact that his jacket was very obviously bulging with concealed weapons. He was muscular, but not like Derek-level muscular. Stiles nearly smiled at the thought of what Derek might say if he knew Stiles had been thinking something like that. He was quickly brought back to reality when the man suddenly grabbed his chin. "Do you know what you're doing here?" he growled.

"Should I?"

"I was hoping not. That would ruin the fun!" Stiles gasped again as the man suddenly shoved his fist into Stiles' stomach. He tried to swallow back the nausea as the man hit him over and over again until he had to turn to his side and throw up on the cold metal.

"Please… just tell me what you want... please…"

"Here's what's going to happen." Stiles tried to take advantage of the fact that the man had apparently paused his beatdown by pulling in some much-needed deep breaths. "You're going to call Derek Hale on your phone. You're going to talk to him. You're going to put the phone on speaker and I will hear everything he says. You can say whatever you want but you will not under any circumstances tell him where you are."

"Listen, I hate to be obvious but I don't actually know where I am." Stiles regretted saying the words as soon as they left his mouth, but thankfully the guy seemed to be resting his fists for the time being.

He started removing the ropes from Stiles' hands."You will tell him nothing about your surroundings. Understood?" Stiles nodded, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was being allowed to call someone in the first place. Surely he must be bait for one of the werewolves, but then wouldn't his captor want the wolves to know where he was? He supposed he'd have to worry about that later. Right now he had to focus on conveying his situation to his friends without giving them heart attacks. The man pressed Stiles' phone into his hand and Stiles wondered when he'd taken it from him in the first place. Stiles hesitated. If this was a trap (what else could it be?) then his friends would be in danger. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone getting hurt because of him… not again…

"Call him. Now." Stiles' panic returned full-force as the man pulled a gun out of his jacket.

"Ok, ok. I'm calling." He dialed. The phone rang for all of 2 seconds before Derek picked up and barked, "Stiles? What's going on? Where are you? Are you ok? Tell me where you are right now." Stiles actually chuckled a bit.

"Well, hello there Sourwolf." Stiles hated how weak his voice sounded in his ears. God… this was pitiful. Clearly Derek could hear it too, because he actually sounded panicked when he started talking again.

"Stiles! What happened?"

"I don't know. I just woke up on a- I just woke up somewhere. I don't know where I am."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm alright-"

"Don't lie to me, Stiles. Are you hurt?"

Stiles sighed. "I've been better." He could hear Derek's sharp intake of breath through the phone.

"Ok, ok. What can you see?"

"I don't know."

"Come on, Stiles-"

"Derek." Stiles flinched as the man moved toward him threateningly. "I can't tell you anything."

"Ok. That's ok. Just don't stop talking, ok? Is there anybody with you right now?" Stiles glanced at the man, who was glaring back while shaking his head. He hesitated. If Derek didn't know there was someone with him then the pack would be in more danger. He had to risk it.

"Yes. Derek, listen to me. It's a tra-" Stiles was cut off by his own agonizing scream as pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before ripped through his right shoulder and the sound of a gunshot filled the air. He could just make out the faraway sound of someone shouting his name as he fell into darkness once again.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles sounded awful. Derek hated hearing him like that. Stiles was supposed to be happy. Annoyingly so, in fact. Stiles definitely was not supposed to sound like he'd just been hit by a truck. Once Derek was satisfied that Stiles at least wasn't currently dying he started asking him the more practical questions. It became obvious right away that he was afraid to say too much, so Derek came to the realization that there must be someone there. He was starting to say something about a trap when he was suddenly interrupted by one of the worst things Derek had ever heard- a gunshot followed by an anguished scream. Derek could have sworn his heart stopped. Stiles couldn't die. Stiles couldn't just _die_ … that wasn't how it worked. Stiles always had to be there annoying everybody and figuring things out and making stupid jokes. He was just human… he didn't deserve to die just because he was stupid enough to be friends with wolves. Derek had already been running to the Sheriff's office because of Scott's foreboding phone call, but now he couldn't stop himself from fully shifting and sprinting the rest of his way there.

"Derek? What's wrong? Derek?" Scott had never seen Derek look like this before. He looked absolutely wrecked.

"Stiles called me."

"What?! Where is he? Is he ok? We have to go-"

"Scott." Scott's stomach turned to ice. He had a terrible feeling that he didn't want to know what Derek was about to tell him.

"What is it?"

"He called me. He sounded hurt but not too badly. He says he doesn't know what happened and just woke up somewhere. He couldn't tell me where he was. He tried to say something about a trap and then-" Derek's breath hitched. "Then I heard a gunshot and Stiles screamed and the phone disconnected."

"Oh my god. Oh my god…" Scott suddenly felt like he couldn't stand up straight. He fell down onto one of the chairs and stared at the floor. He could feel warm hands on his shoulders.

"Scott, he's alive. I can feel it." The banshee's soft voice reassured him. "It feels worse now, though. We have to hurry."

"What do we do?! What the hell are we supposed to do?" Scott growled. He could feel his eyes glowing red. Lydia looked scared, but Scott knew it wasn't because of him.

"Everybody calm down. My son has been kidnapped and shot and God knows what else and we are going to find him right now. Is that understood?" The sheriff's voice was gruff.

"We can probably track his phone unless the captor broke it. At the very least it's a start until we pick up his scent." Derek grabbed Scott's arm and pulled him up. "We'll find him, Scott." He smiled at the other three. "Well, what are we waiting for?"


	5. Chapter 5

He didn't even know something could hurt so much. He thought he'd experienced a lot of pain… certainly more than most teenagers. The worst he'd ever felt was after he'd first been separated from the nogitsune, but at least then he'd been so messed up in the head that he could barely register the pain. This, though… this was like fire and sharp metal constantly ripping through his entire arm while his stomach felt like any second it might just implode. He'd lost count of how many times the man had punched him, but that pain seemed trivial compared to this fresh agony in his shoulder. Besides all that, he was starting to seriously wonder if the man had concussed him at some point in the kidnapping process. His head hadn't stopped pounding and it took far too much effort to form a coherent sentence. He must have passed out for a bit after the gunshot, but his body evidently didn't want him to experience the bliss of unconsciousness for long because he soon woke up and remembered it all; the beating, the shot, the phone call- Derek! Oh god… what had happened to Derek? What would happen if the pack found him? What did the man (or, as Stiles has begun to think of him, the devil) want with him? So far the guy had refused to give him any answers and Stiles was afraid to ask too many questions because this psycho was clearly a bit trigger-happy.

Stiles noticed dully that the bleeding seemed to be slowing a bit. Good, that was good. Now he just needed to figure out how to make sure his loved ones didn't get killed. Great. He looked up. The man had his back to him and seemed to be talking to someone on his phone.

"Hey." Stiles thought he might as well try to figure out why this was happening. What did he have to lose? The man whipped his head around.

"What?"

"What is it that you want with Derek? Whatever he did to you, I'm sure he's sorry. He's actually a pretty decent guy when you get past the cactus-y exterior." Was it Stiles' imagination or did the man actually chuckle a bit at that?

"So you haven't figured it out yet? Shame… I thought you were the smart one. I couldn't care less about this Derek Hale of yours."

"What? Then why-"

"Derek is a pawn in this game just as you are. He plays his part just as you play yours."

"I don't-"

"I don't want some stupid werewolf. There are plenty of those. No, no, no. I want something that few will ever have the chance to see. I want the true alpha.

I am going to kill Scott McCall."


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles' jeep wasn't in his garage or Scott's. That must mean that he'd been taken somewhere in between. "Parrish, put an APB out on a blue 1980 CJ-5. Top priority." The sheriff massaged circles into his temples as he tried to push all of the worst case-scenarios out of his mind. What if Lydia was wrong? What if Stiles was dead? Even if he wasn't yet, how long would he last without bleeding out? They couldn't know what condition he was in unless they could see him or talk to him. What if it was too late? He couldn't go through this. Not again. He was blessedly interrupted from his musings as Parrish burst through the door.

"Sir? They've found it! It's…"

"What? Where is it?"

"It's in the ditch out behind the vet's office. It's… it's pretty banged up but Stiles isn't anywhere to be found."

"Thank you." The Sheriff smiled sadly.

"What else can I do?"

"That's all for now. Thank you, Parrish." Parish squeezed his shoulder compassionately before leaving. The Sheriff turned around. "Scott? You know I can see you listening from behind the door, right?" A sheepish-looking Scott peeked out from behind the wooden door with a shy smile on his face.

"Sorry. Now we know where the jeep is, though. We can track his scent."

"Get Derek and Lydia. We're going right now." The sheriff considered requesting backup, but he really couldn't do that until he knew whether or not they were dealing with the supernatural. They would just have to scope out the situation for the time being. He got into his car with Scott in the passenger seat and Derek and Lydia sitting uncomfortably in the back. He put on his siren and sped out of the station parking lot and toward the area that Parrish had described. In a few agonizing minutes they arrived at the ditch and the sight made his stomach turn. The jeep was upside-down with several broken windows and a massive dent in the passenger side. They all stared, stunned until Derek broke the silence.

"Bastard must've driven him off the road," he growled. The sheriff had never seen him with a look of such fury in his eyes before. He'd often wondered about Hale's relationship with his son. They seemed attached in way that suggested intense friendship, but they also constantly acted like they wanted to rip each other's heads off. With Scott it was easy. Scott and Stiles were brothers and they always had been. With Hale, though, he couldn't help but wonder if they might be… something else. He looked at the jeep again. Scott was already circling it and taking in every scent that he could.

"Ok. I think I've got it. Derek?" Derek anxiously walked over to the jeep and did the same. He paused at the the steering wheel. "What is it?" Scott questioned, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

"I smell something on the wheel."

"Me too. Stiles' cologne and pizza and-" he paused, feeling a pang of sympathy in his stomach. "And anxiety."

"Yes, but that's not all. Come really close. Breathe deeply. Do you smell that?" Scott did as he was told. He shuddered with the sudden realization.

"Blood." Derek nodded solemnly. "Stiles' blood." The Sheriff swore under his breath.

Lydia looked back and forth between the Sheriff and Scott. She was crying again, but she wasted no time in marching over to the boys and demanding, "What are we doing just standing here? You have the scent, right? Let's go find him!"


	7. Chapter 7

The man (demon?) hit him again… and again… and again… Stiles was starting to worry that his body wouldn't be able to endure this for much longer. The brute really couldn't have stopped with shooting him and then called it a day? The pain was unbelievable. There wasn't a single part of his body that didn't feel like it was either on fire or being repeatedly hit with a sledgehammer. The bullet had gone all the way through his shoulder and there was still blood trickling steadily out of each side. Stiles couldn't open his eyes without feeling like someone was stabbing a spike directly into his brain. He slipped in and out of consciousness for what must have been a few hours or so but he'd completely lost track of time. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He figured it must have been the previous day. The man had brought him some water at one point and Stiles had barely been able to keep it from immediately spilling out of his mouth. His hands were tied up again and had gone numb quite a while before, so the man had to bring the dirty cup right up to his lips. Stiles noted bitterly that the guy seemed to have a sick fascination with attempting to kill him but also refusing to let him die. Death was starting to sound like it might not be such a bad alternative- No. He couldn't think like that. He needed to save Scott. Scott wasn't going to die because of him. Stiles would not allow it. He had to stay awake.

"Why do you want to kill Scott?" The man looked surprised, as if he hadn't expected Stiles to be conscious.

"And why would I tell you that?" Stiles would have rolled his eyes if they didn't hurt so much.

"Seriously? What am I going to do? Send the information directly to his mind with my telepathy? I happen to remember you crushing my phone, thanks a lot by the way, so what else am I going to do?" Stiles was panting now. He couldn't believe how exhausting talking had become. Maybe it was the head trauma. Or the bullet wound. Or the blood loss. Or the broken ribs. He wasn't completely sure that any of the ribs were broken, but the difficulty of breathing was a pretty good indicator. The man stared at him for a few moments.

"Fine. By the time you see him it'll be far too late anyway. That is, if you hold out that long." He gave Stiles a sick smile before continuing. "Do you have any idea how powerful he is? How much he could do if he wasn't constantly running after his pets? He doesn't deserve that power. He doesn't _understand_ that power. I do." Stiles tried desperately to stay focused as he started to put the pieces together.

"You're going to make him bite you. And then you're going to kill him and take his power." The look on the man's face was the only confirmation Stiles needed. His fury grew stronger and stronger by the minute but he knew he had to be careful. He had to stay alive so he could warn Scott. "No offense, but I'm starting to think that I don't like you very much." The man gave another one of his sadistic chuckles.

"Don't worry. You won't have to think about that much longer. They'll have found the jeep by now. It shouldn't take them too long to track you the rest of the way here." Great, the jeep too? What had he done with the jeep? Stiles was terrified by the implication that Scott had a clear-cut way of finding him. Scott could not die.

"He won't bite you, you know." The man chuckled. Stiles was starting to think that this man's laugh was the worst sound he'd ever heard.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I feel very confident that your friend will take one look at his poor little human and do anything that I ask." Rage flooded through Stiles' head. This was so messed up. The worst part was that he knew the guy was right. Stupid, selfless, loyal, wonderful Scott would do anything to make sure that Stiles didn't get hurt anymore.

Even if it meant he had to die.


	8. Chapter 8

They were getting closer. Lydia could feel it. She could also feel Stiles coming closer and closer to death and she almost couldn't bear it. Stiles was her best friend. She loved him. He loved her too; she knew that. They were family. She couldn't lose him. She kept sneaking glances at Derek but she was unable to read his face. She had suspected for a while that he might have feelings for the spastic, hyperactive teen. She doubted that Derek knew this, but Stiles had actually admitted to her once that he thought he might be developing some "romantical feelings for the sourwolf." She smiled before remembering what they were heading into and bleakly wondered if Stiles would ever have the chance to tell Derek that.

"The scent is getting stronger." Derek broke the uncomfortable silence. "Lydia?"

She gestured to the large building in front of them. "He's in there. He's nearby. I'm sure of it." A combination of terror and anticipation made her stomach turn. Scott spoke next.

"I'm going in."

"Don't be stupid. We're all going in." Derek shot back immediately. The sheriff nodded vehemently.

"Stiles called you. Don't you think that means something?"

"Scott, Stiles was obviously forced to call me. He couldn't even tell me where he was." Derek responded cautiously.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. The trap is clearly for you. He won't be expecting me. I can catch him off guard before you guys come. Besides if we all bombard him at once he might panic and take it out on Stiles." Derek knew that Scott was probably right. Still, he didn't like the idea of Scott going in there alone and he especially didn't like the idea of waiting patiently to find the guy who shot Stiles and rip his throat out with his teeth.

"Ok. I'm coming in a few minutes though, or if I hear anything funny."

"Ok. You guys stay here. Follow after a little bit. Sheriff?" Scott turned toward the older man.

"I don't like this, Scott."

"I'll be fine. All that matters is that we save Stiles." And with that he quietly slipped inside the strangely unlocked door and ran out of sight.


	9. Chapter 9

"Ah, it appears your little friends have arrived. Lovely." Stiles cracked his eyes open painfully. He tried to lift his head and was startled by the difficulty of even the smallest movements. This was bad. He'd lost too much blood… he must have by now. But he had to stay awake. He had to stay awake for Scott. The human-garbage-torture-machine started speaking again, "It'll probably take him about five minutes to realize that the building has a roof. That'll be when the fun begins." Stiles felt tears dripping down his face. This guy was going to make him watch his best friend die, on his account. He assumed that Derek and his dad were with him too, and maybe Lydia. Possibly some backup… it was hard to say. He could only hope that they would take this guy down before anybody got hurt. They would figure this out. They always did. Despite his best attempts to stay awake, he could feel himself slipping and he was soon lost to the world once again.


	10. Chapter 10

"Derek, you need to follow him. Something's wrong. There's something wrong with this. We need to follow him." Derek was startled by the urgency in Lydia's tone.

"Ok. Sheriff, you're with me. Lydia, stay here."

She smirked. "Not a chance. I'm coming with you and you might as well stop arguing about it now because you're wasting your breath." The Sheriff couldn't help but smile at that.

"Alright then. Let's do this." He put a hand on his gun and entered the building. He was surprised to see that it was mostly empty inside. There were some boxes lying here and there, but overall it looked completely abandoned. He wandered around cautiously and looked inside each room while the others followed suit.

A few minutes later he heard Derek's harsh whisper, "He's not here. Neither is Scott. I saw stairs though. They must be on the second floor."


	11. Chapter 11

Scott paused by what he assumed must be the door to a roof. He could've sworn that he heard something. He listened harder. There it was- that was definitely Stiles' breathing. It was much slower than normal, though, and it was far too labored. He turned the knob and stepped onto a massive metal roof overlooking some vast fields. He looked around until he saw what looked like a figure slumped over a chair in the distance. He started running. Once he was close enough to see clearly, he stopped in his tracks and stared in horror. Stiles looked dead. Scott would've thought he was too late if not for the erratic rising and falling of his chest. He looked… he looked broken. His eyes were closed and his head was slumped at an odd angle. His body was littered in bruises. They were everywhere. It was horrifying. Scott felt sick. From the looks of it, he probably had a few broken bones as well. The worst part, though, was the blood. In his hair, all over his right arm, on his face, on his mouth, pooled on the ground... there was way too much blood. Scott resisted the urge to throw up. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. He started to move closer when a gruff voice cut him off.

"No, I think that's close enough for now." Scott was going to kill him. He was going to _kill_ him for what he'd done.

"You son of a-"

"Now, now. There's no need to be rude." Scott could feel his eyes glowing red. He could feel his claws digging into his palms and his fangs biting into his bottom lip. He started growling with wild, frenetic rage and only stopped when he heard Stiles' breathing change slightly. He was waking up.

"S-Scott?" He slurred. The sound of his voice nearly made Scott break down. His eyes were barely open but it was obvious that he was trying to stay awake. Scott could feel tears leaking out of his eyes. "Scott. Don't… h-he wants-" In an instant the man was at Stiles' side with a knife to his throat, effectively shutting him up. Scott froze.

"Here's what's going to happen, Mr. McCall. You are going to bite me." Scott jerked his eyes away from the knife and Stiles' terrified eyes.

"What?"

"You're going to give me the bite of a true alpha." So he hadn't been baiting Derek. Derek had just been a diversion. Scott swallowed hard, shaking his head.

"No."

The man smiled. "Funny, your little friend here thought you might respond that way. Didn't you, Stiles?" Scott returned his gaze to his best friend. His eyes were still open but they were glazed over and he didn't seem to be completely aware of what was going on anymore. Scott squeezed his eyes shut as more tears found their way out. "That's where Stiles here comes in. See, I figure you'll do just what I say or your little human will pay the price."

"I swear to god, if you touch him again-"

"I suggest you do what I say, Mr. McCall." All of the humor had left the man's voice. Scott could feel cold dread running down his spine. He hesitated. "Hm… you seem to need more incentive." Before Scott could respond, the man tugged the knife closer to Stiles' throat. Scott could see a few drops of blood drip from the sharp edge as Stiles audibly gasped, clarity returning to his eyes.

"Stop! Stop. I'll do it."

"Scott-"

"It's ok Stiles. Everything is going to be fine." Scott forced himself to smile. "Everything is going to be fine." He turned to the man again. "Step away from him and drop the knife. Then I'll give you the bite." Stiles had closed his eyes again, but Scott could tell that he was awake. The scent of fear emanating from his bruised, bloody form was overwhelming. The man smiled cruelly as he walked toward Scott, but continued holding onto the knife. He reached out his arm.

"Think about what you're doing." Scott's voice quivered.

"Trust me, I'm well aware of what I'm doing. Let's get on with-"

Stiles started speaking again, cutting him off. "S-Scott. Please. He'll kill me anyway. More people will die-" Before he could finish his sentence, the man had shoved Scott to the side roughly and grabbed his gun, pointing it directly at Stiles' head.


	12. Chapter 12

"SHUT UP!" The man bellowed, and then everything happened at once. Stiles was yelling, Scott was running towards him, and the Sheriff suddenly burst through the door with his own gun pointed at the maniac. Scott had never been more relieved in his life. Where were Derek and Lydia though? The Sheriff was glaring daggers at the man, his grip on the gun completely steady.

"Get away from my son or I will shoot you. Drop it NOW." The man looked amused.

"Hello, Sheriff. I'm afraid that I can't do that. You see, I'm very sure that you won't make one move towards me because you know how quickly I can pull this trigger." The Sheriff's gaze held steady.

"Drop. The. Gun. You are going to prison for a long time. Drop it. I will not hesitate to shoot you."

"Stop talking. I'm losing my patience. If McCall doesn't do what I asked then the boy dies." His finger tightened on the trigger. Scott tensed, his claws clenched in his palms hard enough to make them bleed. He was waiting for the right moment to lunge at the madman without putting Stiles in further risk. He felt like he could scream. He was about to do it when the man suddenly cried out and was dragged backwards. In an instant, Derek was towering over him and Lydia was running towards Stiles. Derek snarled.

"Your time is up. I'm not going to kill you. No… I'm going to let you rot in prison instead." The man looked terrified. It was satisfying. He scrambled to find his gun but Derek swiftly kicked it out of reach. Derek shot a quick glance at Stiles and his gaze hardened. He turned back to the man, seething. "You will regret this." The fear in the man's eyes shifted slightly into… amusement?

"I don't think so." He pulled the knife out of his back pocket but as soon as he started to swing towards Derek, the latter's claws were buried in his chest and he was silent. Scott stared, stunned until Lydia's desperate voice brought him back to reality.

"Stiles?! Come on, Stiles. Wake up!" In an instant he and Derek were by her side. Scott cut the ropes tying Stiles' hands back and Derek caught the boy as he crumpled forward.

"Dammit. Come on, idiot. Wake up!" Derek could hear the Sheriff frantically yelling orders into his radio. Lydia had already started wrapping the bullet wound in bandages that she'd brought with. Derek let himself breathe a sigh of relief. "It's ok. An ambulance is coming soon." He slapped Stiles' cheek gently and his eyes fluttered open.

"S-sourwolf," he rasped. Derek could feel tears forming in his eyes and the Sheriff was by their side in an instant.

"Stiles? That's right, it's us. Everything is going to be fine. Stay awake for me, alright?" he gently pushed his son's bloody hair out of his face. Stiles' eyes roamed around lazily until they met Scott's.

"Scott?"

"I'm here, Stiles. We're going to get you out of here." Scott grabbed his hand gently.

"A-Are you ok?"

Scott felt tears coming again as he let out a wet laugh. "Yes. Everyone is fine. We're all going to be fine. Hang in there, ok?" Scott gasped as he started drawing some of Stiles' pain, the extent of which was devastating. Derek was doing the same. Stiles' head started drooping forward again.

"No, Stiles- you need to stay awake. Everything is going to be ok. Just stake awake, alright?" Lydia slapped him softly on the cheek until he cracked his eyes open again. "Scott, press here. Derek, hold him up. Prop up his legs too. He's probably going into shock. Sheriff, when will the ambulance get here?"

"This place is out in the middle of nowhere… it could be up to twenty minutes."

"Damn. Ok. Do we have any water?" She asked nobody in particular. Scott sprinted out to the car and brought back a bottle. Lydia twisted the cap off of one of them and sprinkled some water on Stiles' face. He opened his eyes immediately. "Hey, Stiles. Can you drink some water for me? Just a little bit. It'll feel good." He didn't say anything but he didn't protest, so she brought the bottle up to his mouth. He drank a few sips before pulling away. He made a strange gurgling sound and immediately coughed the water back out, a disturbing amount of blood along with it. Derek helped him lean forward so he wouldn't choke. The Sheriff paled and Scott looked wide-eyed at his brother, terrified. He turned to Lydia, his eyes pleading for some kind of good news. She wished more than anything that she had some to give. She didn't try to fight the tears falling freely out of her eyes when she said, "I- I'm not sure he has twenty minutes."


	13. Chapter 13

Derek was rarely this terrified. It was so rare, in fact, that he couldn't remember experiencing it since the fire. At least, not until now. He was supporting Stiles' entire weight while leeching as much of his pain as he could without passing out. Scott was doing the same while kneeling on the ground and gently cradling Stiles' face in his hands. Lydia was still attempting to attend to the wounds and clean him up and the Sheriff was furiously pacing back and forth, eyes glued to his radio. It had been about ten minutes. Amazingly, Stiles had managed to stay awake for most of that time. He hadn't spoken or moved much, but Derek still took his consciousness as a good sign considering the circumstances. It was extremely unnerving for Stiles to be so quiet. Derek had kept his composure pretty well so far, but he was starting to feel like he just needed to break down. Stiles meant more to him than anyone knew. He couldn't lose him and he couldn't stand seeing him in this state. Derek tightened his grip slightly with one hand on Stiles' good arm and the other wrapped gently around his middle. He was completely caught off guard when Stiles suddenly spoke, almost too quietly to hear.

"Guys?"

"We're all here. What do you need?" Derek answered.

"Thank you."

Derek was taken aback."Thank us? For what?"

"Thank you for coming."

God, Derek was so fond of this kid. He could go through absolute hell and still act like his family and friends were somehow inconvenienced by having to save him from a psychotic murderer. There was something about the way he said the words though that made him suddenly terrified that Stiles thought they would be his last.

"Always, Stiles. Always. You know that. Hey, stay awake now. Come on. Just a bit longer. The ambulance is close now. Stiles?! Stiles. Wake up." He poured a bit more water onto his face and the boy came spluttering back into awareness. "Shh. It's alright. I'm sorry but you have to stay awake, ok?"

He winced and gasped for air. "Ok. Sorry. Tired."

"I know. You'll be able to rest soon. You're going to be ok. Right now you need to stay awake though. Promise me?" Stiles answered with a slight nod and tiny smile.

Scott gripped Stiles' hand tightly and smiled back at him, tears filling his eyes. "Is there anything else that we can do to help?" He directed the question toward Lydia and the Sheriff.

Lydia answered first. "I don't think so. The ambulance should be here in a few minutes. We should just make sure he's comfortable." Scott was impressed by her ability to focus on Stiles' health and push her emotions aside, even though it must be killing her inside. Just as he was about to thank her he could see her visibly tense.

"Lydia? What is it?"

"I feel something… like… I don't know how to explain it. I feel like the ambulance needs to get here right now." Scott looked back to Stiles and was horrified to see that his eyes were closed and there was blood dripping out of his mouth.

"No… no…" He stuttered. He leaned his head against Stiles' chest and listened desperately for a heartbeat. It was there, but it was faint. He could hear Derek's breathing speed up as Lydia stiffened.

The Sheriff was on his radio a few feet away, and he suddenly shouted, "They're here! Stay with Stiles. I'm going down to tell them where to go." He took off down the stairs.

Derek's immense relief was short-lived when he felt Stiles go completely slack in his arms. Scott and Lydia gasped in sync. Derek let off a string of obscenities that Stiles would definitely be amused by if he were conscious. The roof door burst open and three EMDs ran in with a rolling stretcher and with the Sheriff following close behind, describing the injuries to the best of his ability. The medics quickly looked him over and then turned to Derek and asked if he would be able to lift him up and lay him on the stretcher. Derek shifted his body so that his arms were looped under Stiles' neck and knees, and slowly lifted him and laid him down, being careful not to jostle his injuries any more than he had to. One of them, a kind-looking woman, asked, "Will you be coming with in the ambulance, sir?" Derek was caught off guard by the question, but the sheriff answered it for him.

"Derek, go. These two are minors and I can't let you drive my police car. We'll be right behind you." Derek nodded and did his best to help the doctors carry the stretcher down the stairs and out to the ambulance. Stiles was disturbingly still throughout all of this, but Derek could hear his steady (although shallow) breathing. He watched the others' faces become more and more petrified as the EMDs starting throwing around terms like "head trauma" and "bullet wound" and "shock" and "severe dehydration" and "broken" and "internal bleeding". They motioned Derek into the vehicle and he jumped inside and sat near Stiles' head. He waved at the others as the doors closed and knew it would be so much worse for them not seeing what was happening during the drive to the hospital.


	14. Chapter 14

The ambulance was cramped. Derek tried to stay out of the way as two of the medics fitted an oxygen mask over Stiles' face while hooking him up to various tubes and wires. The dark-haired woman kept trying to reassure Derek that Stiles would be fine, but Derek could see the lie in her eyes. He could die. Derek knew it as well as they did. Thank God the ambulance hadn't gotten there any later. Still, it might be too late and that was enough to bring on a rush of panic that left Derek struggling to breathe normally. Stiles was completely still except for his eyes fluttering wildly beneath their lids. Derek wished there was some way for him to take some of his pain without the doctors seeing. Derek could smell the pain and the fear and the nauseating stench of too much blood. He texted Scott every few minutes to tell him that nothing had changed, although he knew that Scott would be listening to Stiles' heartbeat anyway. He felt like he needed to help in some way; do something productive. How had this happened? How had they not rescued him sooner? Stiles must have been captured sometime in the previous night and it had taken his pack so long to find him that it was already nearing dinnertime when they finally arrived at the hospital with the sheriff's car close behind. All of the doors on each vehicle flew open and everybody ran to follow the medics who were rushing Stiles inside. They all tried to follow past the front desk and down the hall but they were held back.

"I'm sorry. You can't follow them in there." It was an older man. He looked genuinely sympathetic. "We'll tell you how he's doing as soon as we can." He smiled kindly and continued down the hall with the others. Derek, Scott, Lydia, and the Sheriff each stared at each for a long moment and then sat down together in the waiting room. Lydia burst into tears as Scott held her, crying silently. The Sheriff stared at the floor with a distant look on his face, as if his brain were preventing him from fully acknowledging what was going on. Derek tried to close his eyes for a moment but all he could see was Stiles getting shot and punched and whatever else that psycho had done to him... and the gun pointed at his head... in a second that could have been it. He couldn't stop picturing Stiles laying in a hospital bed, cold and dead. And it still wasn't over. Derek looked down and remembered that he still had Stiles' blood on his hands and arms. Suddenly he was rushing to his feet and stumbling around until he found a bathroom, where he violently emptied the contents of his stomach into the nearest toilet. He sat back, wiped his mouth and covered his face with his arms as huge, wracking sobs finally escaped his body. He couldn't see straight. He couldn't think straight. He heard footsteps quietly approach him from behind.

"He's going to survive. He's a fighter. You know that." It was the Sheriff. Derek was embarrassed that he was such a blubbering mess on the floor when Stiles' actual family could keep it together.

"How are you so ok?"

The Sheriff smiled sadly. "I am far from ok. I need to believe that he'll make it through. I need-" The words seemed to have caught in his throat and he took several deep breaths before speaking again. "I need to ask you something."

Derek looked up, perplexed. What could the Sheriff possibly have to ask him about right now? It must be important for him to bring it up at such an awful time. He nodded.

"Do you love him?"

Derek coughed. "What?"

The sheriff was giving him that sad smile again. "Well? Do you?"

Derek was stunned. Where had this come from? Stiles' dad was asking if he loved him? He was utterly speechless. "I- I mean, he's pack. That makes him family, so-" He stopped, trying to figure out what to say and then looked back into the Sheriff's imploring gaze. He didn't plan his next words and he was as stunned as the Sheriff when they came out of his mouth. "Yes. I love him. I think I've always loved him." He gasped and sat back. Did he really just say that? Did Sheriff Stilinski really just witness him vomit and cry like a kid and then say that he loves his only son? His only son who was currently in the hospital, probably dying?

He had almost forgotten that the Sheriff was still there and jumped slightly when he spoke again. "I can't say that I'm in love with the idea, but Stiles is almost an adult so I really can't tell him what to do anymore. Know this, though; if you ever hurt him in any way I will not hesitate to kill you, werewolf powers or not." His mouth was curved into a frown but it didn't reach his eyes. Derek suddenly understood why he was doing this now. He had to talk about Stiles' future. He had to keep talking like Stiles would be ok. Derek's heart ached for him. It must be the worst for him. Stiles was the only family he had left. He stood up and walked over to the sink where he scrubbed his hands, arms, and face, and then walked back and offered his hand to the Sheriff. He accepted it with a smile and they walked somewhat awkwardly back out to the waiting room.


	15. Chapter 15

It had been a few hours. Lydia fell asleep on Scott's shoulder for no more than ten or fifteen minutes. She'd been running on adrenaline all day and she finally needed to just collapse and get some much-needed rest. She blearily looked up at Derek and Scott. They were all sitting next to each other on a couch, except for the Sheriff who had left to get some coffee.

Scott broke the silence, "Hey, Derek?" Derek opened his eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I sort of listened in to your conversation with Stiles' dad earlier…" Derek's face was suddenly flushing red. Lydia grinned. Derek clearly didn't know what to say, so she spoke up for him.

"If it helps, we already knew anyway." She giggled as his face got redder and redder.

"What? How-"

Scott cut him off. "You know that little thing called 'subtlety"? Yeah, you and Stiles don't really have that."

Derek's expression was a humorous combination of amazed and horrified. His voice was higher than normal when he responded, "Do you mean… does Stiles know? You know, that-"

"That you're madly in love with him?" Derek glared at the grinning redhead as she continued, "Of course he doesn't. He's an idiot. You're both idiots." Derek looked like he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or offended. He didn't have time to come up with a suitable retort, though, and the current conversation completely disappeared when they saw a doctor walking toward them.

"Stilinski family?"

Derek and Scott responded at the same time, "That's us." Lydia had already run off to find the Sheriff and quickly pulled him back to the waiting room. The doctor waited patiently.

"He's not out of the woods yet. He has some very serious injuries. However, I believe that he will make a full recovery." He was practically beaming. Lydia immediately hugged Scott. Derek looked at the Sheriff, who was looking at the doctor.

"When can we see him?"

"He's sleeping now. You can come and see him if you'd like, but he's under heavy anesthesia and likely won't wake up for a while yet." They were already getting up before the doctor had finished talking. He smiled and led the way down the hall, gesturing to the correct room. "I'll give you guys some privacy," he said, and turned to leave. The sheriff entered first, followed by Scott, Derek, and Lydia respectively.

Scott spoke first, "He looks so small." Stiles had tubes and wiring coming from all different directions that connected to various beeping monitors by the wall. He was covered in white bandages, especially around his head and on his shoulder, and his right arm was in a sling. The oxygen mask was gone but Scott assumed that the little tubes that looped around his ears and went into his nose were there to help him breathe. He could see the bruising more clearly now that Stiles wasn't covered in blood. He caught himself thinking that he would kill the person responsible before remembering that Derek already had several hours before. He absently wondered what happened to the body. It seemed trivial now… like none of that would matter as long as Stiles woke up. He was laying still, dark eyelashes matted down on his cheekbones and lips parted slightly. He looked peaceful. Lydia pulled up a chair to the left side of the bed and gently held his hand. Scott pulled up another chair next to her and started taking some of his pain. He was relieved to find that there was barely any to take. A few of the IVs were surely pumping him up with painkillers. The sheriff stood up and announced that he would be right back with some dinner, and left Derek standing awkwardly by the door. Scott motioned for him to come sit, so he pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. He listened to Stiles' steady breathing for a few minutes before grabbing his other hand and letting the tears flow freely again.


	16. Chapter 16

Scott jerked awake. It was dark… where was he? Then the memories came crashing back. He was in the hospital room with Stiles. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was only 10:00. Good, he'd only fallen asleep for a few minutes. They'd been taking turns sitting with him so that they could each get some sleep, although Derek practically had to drag the Sheriff out when his turn was over. Scott had called Melissa and filled her in on everything. She had desperately wanted to help but Scott reminded her that she had patients in Beacon Hills too and this place was several hours away. Besides, Stiles was well taken care of here. It occurred to Scott that he'd never thought to ask what city they were in. Scott couldn't care less where they were as long as Stiles was alright. As if on cue, Stiles' eyes suddenly shot open. "Stiles?! Oh my god! You're awake! Stiles? What's wrong? Stiles?" He looked absolutely terrified. He looked around the hospital room and back to Scott, breathing far too quickly. "Hey, you're ok! It's ok, buddy. You have to calm down." Stiles didn't say anything, but he was shaking and Scott could see the panic in his eyes. "Oh god… Ok, I'm calling the nurse, alright? You're going to be fine." Stiles was taking sharp, gasping breaths now and his eyes were frantically darting around the room. Scott pressed the call button far more times than necessary and waited impatiently for the nurse to arrive. She ran in, took one look at Stiles, and started doing something with one of the IVs. Scott watched, terrified. "Is he ok?"

"He's alright. I'm just giving him something to help him sleep. We see this a lot with trauma patients. Now that he's out of immediate danger, his brain is forcing him to relive what happened and try to make sense of it. He'll likely deal with a lot of anxiety for a while, but that's to be expected." She smiled kindly at Scott. "He's perfectly fine. I promise." He nodded and watched her leave. Stiles was not perfectly fine. He already dealt with a lot of anxiety… this was like some kind of sick joke. He was sleeping again, but he was still fidgeting. Scott grabbed his hand and leaned in closer to his head.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you. I'll protect you." He wasn't sure if Stiles could hear him, but he continued talking to him softly until he fell asleep in his chair with his head resting on the edge of Stiles' bed.


	17. Chapter 17

Derek couldn't sleep. He was sitting on one of the waiting room chairs trying to get as comfortable as he could. Lydia was asleep next to him. Her mom had wanted to come pick her up, but she'd refused. The Sheriff was sitting across from them, drowsily staring at nothing. Derek checked his watch and saw that it was nearing 11:00. He got up and left as quietly as he could and started making his way toward Stiles' room. He paused at the door and smiled when he saw that Scott had fallen asleep next to Stiles' bed. They were lucky to have each other. He put a hand on Scott's shoulder and his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," he said tiredly.

Derek smiled. "Hey. You can go get some sleep now." Scott got up but turned before leaving.

"He had a panic attack a little while ago. He woke up but he was super out of it and the nurse gave him something to put him back to sleep. If it happens again just call for the nurse, ok?" Derek nodded and Scott walked out. He looked at Stiles again, wishing that there was something he could do to take all of this away. Stiles didn't deserve this. Nobody did, but especially not Stiles. He watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, finally letting himself relax and just enjoy the fact that Stiles was still alive.

Twenty or so minutes later Stiles' eyes popped open and he cried out. Derek was by his side in a heartbeat. "What's wrong? Stiles? Are you alright? Stiles, calm down." He was scared… he could see the pure panic in Stiles' eyes and he could feel the bed shaking. Stiles had started sweating and hyperventilating in a matter of seconds. Derek tried not to freak out. "Ok, I'm calling the nurse. I'm going to get the nurse to come help you, ok?" He was about to press the button when Stiles spoke.

"Please… don't…" He wheezed.

"Stiles, she'll help you sleep!"

"Don't… please."

"Stiles-"

"I can't go back to sleep. Please, Derek," he could barely get the words out through his gasping breaths. Derek honestly didn't know what to do. He thought logically that he should get the nurse but something in Stiles' eyes convinced him otherwise.

"Ok. Ok. I won't call her if you promise you don't need anything."

"Just… stay?" His voice was so thin, so quiet. It broke Derek's heart.

"Yeah, yeah of course. Of course I'll stay." He reached out and grabbed his hand. Stiles squeezed back with force that surprised Derek. His hand was shaking. His eyes were glassy and unfocused. He looked like he was spending all of his available energy on trying to breathe. Derek tried to look calm. "What can I do?"

Stiles sucked in a heaving breath and shook his head. "Do you want to be alone?" He shook his head furiously. "Ok. Ok, do you want me to be quiet?" He shook his head again.

"Can't… breathe…"

Derek was trying and failing to look like he wasn't panicked. "I really think I should get the nurse-"

"No... It's… not… like that. This happens... a lot…" Derek was stunned. Stiles had panic attacks like this a _lot_? How had he never noticed?

"Is there any way that I can help?" He was practically begging. Stiles looked like he was hanging on to his own sanity for dear life as he tried to choke out a response.

"Can't breathe… I'm so dizzy." There were tears streaming steadily down his cheeks now.

"Please, Stiles! Please let me help you." Derek tried to talk softly and calmly, but Stiles was scaring the hell out of him.

"Help… me… sit up a little? Too… dizzy on my back…" He was breathing so shallowly that Derek was afraid he would pass out. He quickly put his hand on Stiles' back and helped him sit up slightly. He sat on the edge of the bed holding Stiles up as he tried to normalize his breathing. He was shaking violently. Derek massaged circles in his back and kept talking, although he didn't know of it was helping.

"You're safe. You're safe, I promise. Deep breaths, ok? Good. I'm here. I won't leave unless you ask me to. You're doing great, just keep breathing." After several more minutes of this Stiles finally began to calm down. His breathing became less ragged and the shaking subsided somewhat. Derek eased him back down onto his pillow. He has closed his eyes but Derek could tell that he wasn't asleep. He shifted awkwardly back down to his chair by the side of the hospital bed.

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you want to sleep? You look exhausted. Is it nightmares?"

Stiles was quiet for several moments before responding. "Partly. It's not so much the sleep as it is the anesthesia."

"What do you mean?" Derek was confused, but he was also extremely relieved that Stiles was speaking in full coherent sentences.

"I just… when I feel like I'm not in control of my body…" He tensed and Derek realized what he was implying. He gripped his hand tighter.

"The nogitsune is gone. It's never coming back." Derek was irrationally angry all of a sudden; angry that Stiles had to deal with crap like that on top of everything else.

Stiles smiled sadly. "I know. Thank you. You help." Derek felt like crying again. Stiles looked so tired and sick.

"Is there anything else that I can do?" Derek was pleading now. Stiles looked up at him.

"Could you just talk? Tell me about the last movie you saw or something." Derek looked at him quizzically.

"Just talk?" Stiles nodded sleepily. Derek suddenly felt nervous, but quickly went into a detailed description of the Avengers. He knew Stiles had seen it a hundred times but it was the last movie he could remember seeing. The only time he really watched movies was when Stiles forced him to. After a few minutes he could feel Stiles' grip loosening on his hand as his breathing started to even out. He was sleep. Derek sat back and took a shaky deep breath. He was ok. He had to be ok.


	18. Chapter 18

Lydia walked into Stiles' room a few minutes after midnight. Derek hadn't come back yet, which didn't surprise her in the slightest. He was sitting next to Stiles' bed looking distraught. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Derek?"

He looked up tiredly. "Has it been an hour already?" She smiled and nodded. "Can… can I stay?"

"Yeah, yeah of course." Lydia sat down in the chair next to him and laid her head on his shoulder. After a few hours Scott and the Sheriff joined, and they seemed to reach some kind of unspoken agreement that they would all just stay for the rest of the night.

When Stiles woke up, he noticed two things: first, that he was not alone. In fact, he was so not alone that there was barely any open space in the room for the nurse to walk around. She was quietly adjusting his IVs and replacing his bandages. She smiled when she noticed that he was awake. She spoke quietly out of consideration for Stiles' friends that were asleep throughout the room. "Hey, Stiles. How are you feeling?" That brought Stiles to the second thing he noticed, which was the pain. It was everywhere. He didn't actually know what it felt like to be run over by a monster truck but he imagined it would be something like this. He thought his head might actually split open any minute. His entire torso felt like it was made of fire-infused jelly. His shoulder felt like it was being squeezed in an iron fist. Any small movement sent sharp pain shooting through his entire body. And he was so exhausted. He felt like he hadn't slept in weeks. He had a slight suspicion that might have something to do with the blood loss. He almost started to doze off again before he remembered that the nurse had asked him a question.

"Not too bad," he responded. She looked amused.

"I have a feeling you're not being totally honest with me." She smiled kindly and looked at him questioningly. Stiles realized that she was waiting for a better answer.

"I kind of feel like I just fell off of a fifty-story building," he responded more accurately.

"Yeah, that sounds about right. I'm going to give you some more pain medicine, ok?"

Stiles nodded. "Thank you."

She smiled again. "You're a very lucky young man. You'd have to be very strong to pull through that experience like you did." Stiles was surprised by the conviction in her words. She was being completely sincere.

"They all could have died. All I did was sit there and wait to be rescued..."

"According to your friend there," she gestured to Derek before continuing, "You took a bullet just to warn your friends about what was going on. And according to your other friend," this time she was gesturing to Scott, "You managed to stay awake to make sure that he wouldn't get hurt. And this was after getting into a car wreck, getting beaten, and getting shot. Should I go on?"

"Please do. You're making me sound super awesome," Stiles responded with a soft smile.

She laughed. "Do you need anything else?"

He shook his head. "I think I'm ok."

"Alright. I'll be nearby." She left quietly and started walking down the hall. Stiles looked around the room. His dad was sleeping on an uncomfortable-looking chair in the corner. Scott was propped up against the wall next to him, also very much asleep. Lydia and Derek were asleep on chairs right next to his bed. Lydia had her head on Derek's shoulder and Derek's hand was resting on the edge of Stiles' bed. Who knew Derek could be such a teddy bear? Stiles was overwhelmed with gratitude for all of them. He could never thank them enough for being there, but he intended to try. He was almost painfully relieved that none of them had gotten hurt because of him. He wouldn't be able to stand that. He figured he should probably let them sleep, but he was suddenly desperate for them to be awake. He needed to see their eyes and know for sure that they were ok.

"Derek?" His voice was soft, but loud enough to wake Derek up. He opened his eyes slowly and then jumped up, as if suddenly remembering where he was.

"Stiles! Are you ok?"

"Fine, Sourwolf. I promise."

Derek visibly relaxed. "How are you feeling?"

"Definitely better than last night."

Derek nodded. "Good, good."

Stiles tone shifted to become more serious. "Derek?"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Thank you. For last night… and… everything else. Thank you."

Derek smiled and breathed deeply before responding, "Thank _you_."

Stiles was confused. "Thank me? Why?"

"Thank you for staying alive." Stiles had no idea how to respond to that. Thankfully, a few seconds later Lydia was awake and exclaiming,

"Stiles! You're ok! Oh, thank god. I thought we'd lost you! How are you feeling? Can I get you anything? You must be thirsty. Are you thirsty? I can ask the nurse-"

Stiles laughed. "Hey, Lyds."

She was beaming. "I'm so glad you're ok!"

"Me too." He could hear his dad and Scott starting to wake up. They both ran over to him seconds after opening their eyes.

'Son! How are you doing? Are you alright?"

Stiles smiled at his anxious father. "Thanks to you guys, I think I am." Stiles turned to Scott when he saw that he was starting to take his pain. "Scott, stop it."

"But-"

"You've done that too much already. Give yourself a break." Scott didn't look convinced, but he stopped anyway. "Thanks Scotty. I'm still here because of you." Scott looked surprised but he didn't argue. Instead he asked,

"What happened? No, I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about it right away." he looked embarrassed like he'd just asked Stiles to do something unthinkable.

"No, it's ok. I'd rather get it off of my chest right away." Before anyone could protest he started to explain the events of the previous day as well as he could, although his memory was a jumbled mess. He tried not to emphasize the worst parts too much because of the looks on their faces as he was talking. By the time he finished he was exhausted. Reliving it everything had been more painful than he'd been expecting. The others could clearly tell, because they all looked increasingly guilty and sympathetic by the minute. "Oh god…" and then he was crying, and the others soon followed his lead. "Look at us. We're all wrecks." Scott laughed and tried to give him a hug without hurting him. It was extremely awkward but none of them cared. They were all together. They were all whole. They would all make it through this.


	19. Chapter 19

It was several days before Stiles was moved out of Emergency Care, and it would be many more before he could leave the hospital. The others were staying in a hotel nearby, despite Stiles' insistence that they should go home. They were visiting him so much that that he was starting to think they'd never let him out of their sight again. Not that he would mind. It was comfortable with them. They were safe. He was still having regular nightmares and panic attacks. He tried not to talk about them much but he could tell the others knew. They were making a strong effort not to baby him or treat him differently, because they knew he would hate that. Still, Stiles didn't miss the nervous glances and constant questions regarding his health and desperate need to be with him as much as possible. He enjoyed the last part, but he wished they didn't have to be so worried. One morning Derek was bringing Stiles breakfast and catching him up on world events (particularly supernatural ones) when he suddenly looked nervous and started stumbling over his words.

"Sourwolf?" Stiles asked cautiously.

"Um… I wanted to ask you something." He avoided Stiles' eyes.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. Ask away."

"This might be bad timing." Stiles was growing increasingly more curious by the second.

"I wouldn't mind a nice distraction. I hate hospitals and this one is particularly boring."

Derek chuckled. "Ok. Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to… go out sometime."  
"Out?"

"Yeah… to dinner or something."

Stiles blinked. "Have you ever even been to a restaurant?"

"Shut up."

Stiles was grinning. "I think I can manage that, yeah."

Derek looked adorably nervous and relieved. "I thought you'd say no!"

Stiles was surprised at that. "What, to a handsome guy like you?" Derek snorted. He looked extremely uncomfortable but also extremely happy and Stiles couldn't stop smiling at him. "I knew I'd eventually win you over with my my endless charm." Derek laughed and looked at him for a long, quiet moment. "Derek? You alright there, buddy?"

"Can I kiss you?" The look on his face conveyed that he had not been planning to blurt that out and that he was just as surprised about it as Stiles was. Stiles forgot to breathe or speak for several long moments. Derek looked like he might just implode right there, and Stiles finally found his voice again.

"Listen, I hate to be so corny but I literally thought you'd never ask me that." Derek laughed, and then they were kissing. Nothing else mattered. Stiles was there and he was with Derek and they were safe. Stiles finally believed that everything really would be ok.


	20. Chapter 20

It had been several weeks since their return to Beacon Hills. Scott had almost forgotten what normal life was supposed to feel like. His mom had hugged him for a solid few minutes when he first came into his house, and then bombarded him with questions for at least twenty more. Scott knew how much Stiles meant to her. He was essentially her second son. He reassured her (and himself) that Stiles was making a full recovery. Stiles had begged his dad to let him go back to school because he couldn't stand being in bed anymore. The Sheriff had been skeptical but he eventually obliged because Stiles was recovering so well (and probably partly because of the endless whining about it). Scott was still working on catching up with his schoolwork. Lydia didn't seem to have any problem with that. In fact, she was caught up within the first week even though she was regularly going over to the Stilinski's to help Stiles with his. Derek quickly got back into normal life (at least by his standards) but Scott couldn't help but notice that he seemed way happier than normal. It was actually kind of unnerving for him to be in such a good mood all the time. Stiles got a lot of stares and questions when he came back to school, but he didn't seem to mind very much. Everyone was amazed that he had survived the clutches of an insane serial killer. That was the story they'd given to the police and the hospital and anyone else who asked about it. It wasn't even technically a lie. Scott was still trying to deal with everything that had happened, and it was actually Stiles who was helping him through it. Lydia, Derek, and Stiles' dad were a big part of it too. The five of them had been spending a ton of time together recently. It was like the experience had given them an unbreakable bond beyond the one that they already had. Scott was so thankful for every one of them. They were all struggling still, but they were struggling together. Oddly enough, Stiles was providing the most comfort out of anyone. Scott was amazed by him. He had a long way to go; Scott knew that. He knew he was still having bad nights and that it probably wouldn't end any time soon. On one particular night Scott woke up to his phone vibrating. He looked at his alarm clock. 2:43 a.m. He looked back to his phone and saw a text from Stiles. " _Are you awake?_ " Scott immediately called him.

"Hey, Scotty. Sorry for waking you up."

"What's wrong, Stiles?"

"I don't know."

"Are you ok?" There was a long pause.

"No."

"I'm coming over."

"Scott, you don't have to-"

"I'm on my way." Scott was already heading out to his car. It only took him a few minutes to drive to Stiles' house, but he still listened to his breathing through the phone the entire time. It was relatively steady, but definitely too fast. Scott parked and quietly unlocked the door. He'd had a spare key for years. He assumed Stiles would be upstairs in his room but he was sitting on the couch in the living room, staring at the wall.

"Stiles?" Stiles jumped. "I'm sorry-"

"No, it's ok. Sorry. Scott, you really didn't have to come here in the middle of the night." Scott sat down next to him.

"I wanted to. What can I do?" Stiles finally looked at him.

"I don't want to fall asleep. I keep having these dreams where you get killed and I have to sit and watch… I guess I just wanted to hear your voice." Scott pulled him into a hug.

"Not going anywhere. I promise. Is your dad home?"

"No. He's working the night shift."

"So we don't have to worry about being quiet?"

Stiles looked perplexed. "No…"

Scott smiled. "Alright then. Which one?"

"Could you be a bit more specific?" Stiles was looking at Scott like he'd lost his mind.

"Which Star Wars, obviously." Stiles slowly started to grin.

"Empire Strikes Back."

Scott nodded. "I had a feeling." Stiles looked mock offended.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that your crazy obsessions with certain movies start to get predictable."

"The Empire Strikes Back is a cinematic masterpiece."

"Yeah, yeah." Scott started the movie and sat back down. Stiles looked at him.

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you… for saving my life."

Scott smiled and put an arm around him. "Likewise."

"I didn't-"

Scott cut him off. "Do you have any popcorn?"

Stiles laughed. "Obviously. It's in the same cupboard as always." They snacked and watched the movie and talked about nothing. It felt really good. Scott looked over at Stiles. He had a very serious look on his face, as if he wanted to say something important. Scott waited.

"So if you're Luke, I'm Han, and Lydia is Leia, does that make Derek Chewbacca?" Scott almost spit out his popcorn.

"Oh my god… I can't wait to tell him you said that!"

Stiles laughed. "Thanks Scott." Scott didn't have to ask what he meant. He just smiled and pulled him in tighter. He listened with a mixture of delight and exasperation as Stiles took a full ten minutes describing his theory on why Jar Jar Binks was secretly a dark lord. The movie wasn't even halfway over when Stiles fell asleep. He looked calm. Scott pulled a blanket over him and curled up on the other side of the couch. He listened to Stiles steady heartbeat to lull him to sleep. Every beat reminded him; no matter what, without a doubt, they were going to be just fine.

THE END


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